


Weeding

by PFDiva



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Post-Death Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 20:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: He would have come looking for her, but he didn't have to.





	Weeding

He sees a figure in Maryland's garden, patiently digging out weeds. The scrape of a hand trowel on dry dirt is distinct in the way not much else is. It's bright out, he notices, looking around a moment before his gaze settles on the figure again. It's a middle-aged woman, and a shift of her head tells him all that he needs to know to approach.

Maryland looks up at Ibex as he comes closer, his hands tucked into his pockets with deliberate nonchalance. Every time she saw him on news feeds or the mesh over the years, she was reminded again and again of how handsome he was, even when he wasn't smiling. She missed his smiles. She missed him. Not enough to leave September or to go back to him or...for a lot of things. But enough to ache.

"Hello Ibex," she politely greets, sitting back on her heels. Years of familiarity with her own body insist that this motion is writing her body a check that will be cashed in pain later. Something in the back of her head assures her that the expected pain will never come. The assurance is strong enough that she doesn't move.

"Attar," he corrects, stopping a polite distance away to survey her garden, "I don't think I CAN be Ibex anymore."

"That's probably true," she agrees, the same certainty that says she will not ache for punishing her body also informing her that Righteousness cannot reach here. She's not sure she trusts the thought.

After allowing his eyes to wander over her garden, his gaze finally meets her own. His face softens with a quiet yearning that tugs at her heart. She knows that it's exactly what he's allowing her to see. Some men wear coldness as a weapon to frighten others into giving in. He wears vulnerability as his weapon. It doesn't lessen the effect, especially since she wants to give in, but the thought tumbles through her head.

"Please, Maryland?" He begs gracefully because he's got more practice at than most people. He wouldn't have changed his mind about Righteousness even if he'd known how it ended, she was sure. He wouldn't have come back for her. She knows that. It hurts, but he wouldn't be the man he was if he'd wavered or come back. But at the end, as a concession, he sent those kids to bring her to him.

On the other hand, she'd never doubted that he cared for her.

"You got old, Attar," she finally concedes. If things were different, his begging would have meant nothing to her, because the pair of them deserve each other in so many ways. But things aren't different and she doesn't want to fight.

Her words startle a laugh out of him and he ducks his head, slouching closer.

"That can't be. You haven't aged a day."

Flatterer.

Maryland smiles, more to herself than to him as she resumes weeding the potatoes. "If you're going to bother me, the least you can do is help."

"This suit cost me a credit," he amicably complains, settling in at the other end of the row before hesitating with a trowel in hand. "....I've forgotten how to do this."

Maryland laughs until her stomach hurts, then gestures him over to remind him what he's looking for.

She's not sure how long it takes to show him, how long they work together before he speaks again, "Is this September?"

"I don't think so," she hums thoughtfully, "The dirt's right and the landscape looks right, but I don't think so. Can you hear Righteousness?"

"No. It's why I was wondering." He looks up, expression thoughtful in the way that suggests he's accessing something digital. "Not Righteousness and not….that awful humming." She doesn't want to discuss the latter anymore than he does, so she offers only a lackluster nod.

He nods to himself, then turns his head Just So to look at her from the corner of his eye without looking away from his weeding, "You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

"Arrogant brat," she chides, and he huffs out an amused noise. "I just like this garden."

"Hmm." She can see him nod out of the corner of her eye. "I always thought you'd want more people, more...stimulation."

"Maybe once, I suppose." He hmm's and nods again. "You came looking for me?"

"I would have, if I'd had a choice. But I wasn't here, and then I suddenly was. Someone decided to be kind to me, I suppose."

It's Maryland's turn to nod again. "It's a nice way to pass the time, don't you think?"

"It wouldn't be my first choice, if I'm honest, but the quality of the company cannot be understated."

She makes a disgusted noise at his ingratiating, "I've already given in, Attar. No need to belabor the point."

There is a moment of silence as he freezes in guilty response to her words, "I'm sorry. Old habits."

"I know." Her voice is kind because she does know. When his trowel resumes scraping at the dirt, she changes the topic, "Will Righteousness take the girl?"

"No. She'll shape it, I think."

"The shiny edges haven't worn off her?"

He chuckles, and she knows he's remembering old conversations. He may have been that hopeful once upon a time, but it was before Maryland knew him. Long before he was Ibex.

"I think she's made of shiny edges," he decides, "Like a knife."

"Like Jace?"

"But more." She hums her understanding.

At some point, they finish weeding the garden and put the weeds in with the compost before going to wash up. There is inexplicable clothing in his size and style for him to change into, and he follows her lead into the kitchen to make dinner. The whole time, he follows her with a suspicious docility that she finally confronts him about across vegetables.

"You're trying to lull me, Attar. I don't like it."

"I'm trying to lull myself, too," he admits. "Everything is over, isn't it?"

"There's still a lot of distance to cross."

"We have the time." She can't argue that point. She wants to, but it would be a lie.

"I suppose some things change after all."

"Not at all." She looks up to find Attar staring at her with that piercing intensity he is so good at. It sends a thrill up her spine. "I just know better than to push you. You, of all people."

She shakes her head, returning to her chopping, "It will be a long time."

"I know." He sighs the words out, sounding dreamy. Like he was swooning over her. He might even have been. She had told him he'd won.

"You're an awful man, Attar," she teases, a small smile curving her lips.

Another swooning sigh, "I know. But you'll keep me, won't you?"

"I suppose I will."


End file.
